A Sort Of Homecoming
by xxxRavensClawxxx
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi never knew his family. He never even knew if they were still out there. One day, out of the blue, he suddenly gets a message that will change his life forever. Written by my dad when he was in college, all credit goes to him.


**This story is about Obi-Wan Kenobi as he visits his family on Chandrila, the planet Mon Mothma was born on. He faces his own doubts as well as his brother. All credit of this story goes to my dad. He wrote this a long time ago, and I think you will all enjoy this. Disclaimer: I do NOT own Star Wars, neither does my dad, as awesome as that would be.**

A Sort of Homecoming

*Bing*  
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are approaching the Alderaan System, and will be dropping into realspace in the next fifteen minutes or so. If you need anything, please remember our crew is at your disposal."

Obi-Wan looked at the holoprojector as the captain's face faded away, and then turned his attention back to the celebrity gossip article in Beings Holozine he'd been pretending to read. He didn't exactly know why he'd been pretending to read it. It wasn't like there were any people in his private cabin that he felt the need to impress. In fact, there wasn't anyone in his cabin besides himself.

Normal life must be so mundane, he thought, if people need nonsense like this to make it through their little lives.

Still, he didn't know why he felt jittery. Perhaps it was because hours before he'd thwarted an attack by Merson pirates and defended a sleazy con-man from certain "death by mob." Such activities were almost de rigueur for a Jedi Knight.

No, more likely it was the knowledge that, after his meeting with Senator Bail Organa on Alderaan, he was off to meet his blood family. He knew that was it.

Obi-Wan set the datapad on the seat next to him and ran through some of the Jedi relaxation techniques that were now automatic to him.

Breathe in through the nose. Draw in the fresh, clean air.

Breathe out through the mouth, and with it, imagine the tendrils of anxiety and fear being blown out with the oxygen and dissipating in the atmosphere.

Breathe in through the nose. Breathe out through the mouth.

He could feel his heart slowing down and a calm settling over him like a warm blanket.

There. That was more like it.

It had been thirty years since the Jedi had taken him from his family, which was an odd thought. For Obi-Wan, the Jedi Order was his family. Jedi whom he'd known since his training as a youngling, like Quinlan Vos and Garen Muln, were his family, or as close as he had. And Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon. And Siri. The two he loved the most, killed in the line of duty.

There is no death, there is the Force, he reminded himself. A small part of him was slightly angry, or maybe just really annoyed, at the triteness of such sentiments. Was he not allowed to feel grief over the loss of his closest friends? Qui-Gon was the father he never had, and Siri was the love he was never allowed to have. He remembered when Yoda had told him that his tears of grief over Qui-Gon's death did the fallen master no honour. Normal people feel grief, he now thought. Why should I be denied that same freedom?

He responded to himself almost instantly. Because they don't know any better. Their emotions control their lives, which clouds their judgment.

He remembered the words often spoken by Yoda to younglings and Padawans, and in some case, full-fledged Jedi Knights. Anger, fear, aggression, the dark side are they. Yes, even Jedi Knights needed to be reminded of the basics sometimes. And Obi-Wan's experiences had taught him to love with an open heart, which made coping with the loss much easier.

And so it happened that two standard months before his voyage to Alderaan, Master Kit Fisto approached Obi-Wan with the news that someone had sent him a message. The Nautolian Jedi handed him a datacard and said, "Your birth family would like to get in touch with you."

Obi-Wan was speechless as he looked at Master Fisto, then at the small card in his hand, and back at his friend.

"But only if you want to," Kit continued. "Some masters discourage such a thing, but I can find no harm in it. When was the last time that love ripped a star system apart?" There was a silence as he waited for Obi-Wan to say something. "I'm sorry, I know this catches you by surprise."

"Oh, I rather enjoy surprises," said Obi-Wan finally, and not with a little sarcasm. Kit only smiled, patted the Jedi on the shoulder and walked away, leaving Obi-Wan with his own thoughts.

His family. A mother and father. It struck him that he didn't even know their names, though he'd sometimes dreamt of someone named Owen. They would be in a grassy field, or eating fruit at a table, but Owen's face was always in shadow, and when he awoke, Obi-Wan would quickly forget the events of these dreams. But now was an opportunity to remove the cloud that veiled his dreams. He could finally put names and faces with these vague memories, and then maybe they could be real memories, instead of fleeting hints of déja vu.

But was reconnecting with them in the best interests of the Order? Would that be considered selfish of him to want to meet them? And would meeting them open up the door to more distractions or potential problems? Obi-Wan sighed. At this point it was too early to tell. Too early for him to start overanalyzing.

With a datapad in-hand, thanks to the Jedi Archives, Obi-Wan retreated to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. A renewed sense of calm washed over him as he entered the grand garden. He wasn't sure why, but he always felt at home here, at one with himself, the Force, and nature. He began looking for a quiet spot to sit and view the message, and thought to himself that perhaps one day he could have a little patch of dirt to himself and start a garden of his own.

Even though he'd been here countless times before, the grandeur of the garden left him in awe. All kinds of imported flora lived here, and each in a section that maintained the appropriate level of humidity. Irrigation was provided by the hundreds of waterfalls that gave the garden its name. Every so often hidden sprinklers would turn on over certain parts of the hall to simulate rainfall, and sensors in the walls and floor prevented unwary visitors from getting soaked unintentionally. As he walked, Obi-Wan recalled the fun times he'd had as a youngling and a Padawan when he would come swimming here with his friend Bant Eerin. And he remembered, with a flash of regret, Bruck Chun falling to his death from atop the waterfalls. But as with so many other things in life, Obi-Wan had learned to let go. He seemed to remember a man who once said, "You can't do anything about last year's harvest," but that was faded in his mind.

He found a little nook at the edge of one of the pools, sat down, and inserted the card into his datapad. A holographic figure appeared over the pad. It was a man, perhaps sixty years old, give or take. He wore simple clothes, yet they still appeared well-tailored. Oh, well. It was a hologram, and not a very high-resolution one at that. The figure spoke.

"Hello, there…uh…Master Kenobi." The man fidgeted nervously and tried to figure out what to say next. He seemed strangely familiar, but didn't look like anyone Obi-Wan could think of. "You're not going to remember us. Um…aw, honey, I don't…alright, alright. Obi-Wan, I'm your father."

Obi-Wan thought he felt his heart stop.

"My name is Rhys Kenobi, We know this is probably going to find you when you're the busiest, but your mother Lynelle and I…we'd like you to know that we've been thinking of you these last, oh, thirty five years. And…well…we were wondering if you would come and visit us."

His parents were still alive? He barely even remembered them. In fact, he didn't even know which planet he was from.

"We live in Hanna City on Chandrila." Well, that answered that. "We've lived here since before you were born. Anyway, I don't want to waste any more of your time. If you want to meet with us, please send us a message or something. And if you don't…well, send us a message anyway, just so we know you got this. We'll understand. We love you, son. You've always been our son, even while you were a Jedi. And we love you. Bye, now." The hologram flickered and disappeared.

Obi-Wan swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. His family wanted to meet him? This was such a foreign concept for Jedi, who began at a young age in order to prevent the family identity that can sometimes hamper the family spirit present within the Order. Obi-Wan could see that for himself with his own Padawan.

But here was a family that wanted to meet him. Just that. They weren't telling him his old room was ready, just the way it had been. They weren't asking him to leave the Order and take over the family business, whatever that was. They just wanted to meet their son. No harm in that, right?

Right?

Obi-Wan set the datapad on a nearby rock, pressed the record button, and stood back.

"Well…um…hello, there." He paused, not knowing what to say. How did one begin a relationship with a family he never knew?

Simple, he told himself. The same way you begin a relationship with everyone else. Say hello and introduce yourself. Well that made enough sense.

"I'm Obi-Wan." He let out a deep breath and looked around, not quite sure where to go from here. Just one foot in front of the other, he thought. "Uh, listen, I got your message and I was thinking…."

"…I was planning to travel to Chandrila and see my family. My birth family. For the first time. Ever."

Bail Organa raised his eyebrows and leaned on the arm of the chair in his office. Rain beat on the windows from outside, and his new droid, 68-RKO, stood silently in the corner, observing with shining silver eyes. "Oh, really? How did they find you? Aren't you supposed to leave them behind when you join the order?"

"Well, yes. As an initiate I'd had a sort of mind wipe, but apparently some memories have stayed with me. I'm fairly certain that I have a brother named Owen, but beyond that, everything is blurry. They found me. They send a message to me at the Jedi Temple. I suppose if you want to find a Jedi, that's the first logical place to start looking."

"Good point. But are you allowed to do that?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I consulted with Master Yoda, and as long as I don't develop an attachment to them, he sees no harm in it. Of course, at my age, it's not likely you'll develop the same attachments as a child."

"Well, good for you. A man's family is his treasure, his glory. I wish it weren't so difficult for Breha and me to start a family of our own. I have to admit I'm envious of your parents."

"Your time will come, Senator. Life is the way of the Force."

Bail chuckled and extended his hand. "Thank you for bringing me the 'droid."

Obi-Wan shook his hand and bowed slightly. "If there is anything you need, the Jedi are at your service and that of the Republic." And with that, he turned and walked back to the waiting speeder, which would then take him to the spaceport, and from there, he would board a ship en route to Chandrila.

*Bing*  
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are approaching the Chandrila System, and will be dropping into realspace in the next fifteen minutes or so. If you need anything, please remember our crew is at your disposal."

Obi-Wan looked at the holoprojector as the captain's face faded away, and then turned his attention back to a fantastic article in the Corellian Horticultural Digest about orchids and some of the prize-winning creations from around the galaxy. He found it slightly odd that a detective from CorSec was among the top gardeners in the Core and Colonies. Policemen needed a hobby just the same as anyone else did, so why not, he reasoned. Too much focus on ones occupation, especially in the law enforcement business, could drive one mad.

Obi-Wan inserted a datacard into the side of the pad and stored a copy of the article on it. He figured he'd probably want to read something interesting on the way home. The datacard went back in his travel case. He didn't need much. Toiletries, a few changes of socks and undergarments, a small travel pillow, a datapad with card, and charger for his lightsaber. Yes, the packing list for a Jedi was remarkably short.

He sat on the small bunk and ran through his Jedi calming techniques again. They must have helped, because it seemed to him like only a moment later he felt the ship shudder slightly.

We must have just left hyperspace, he thought.

*Bing*  
"Attention, passengers. This is your captain speaking. We are now entering the Chandrila system, and in a few minutes we'll enter orbit. The planet will be on the port side. Feel free to make your way to any of the observation lounges and enjoy the marvelous view. We will be landing in Hanna City, so we'll let you know when it's time to land."

Obi-Wan didn't feel like visiting the observation lounge. Lounges, in his experience, often contained people who wanted you for something, and more often than not, that want was driven by selfish ambitions. And since he'd developed something of a habit of cutting the arms off of criminals, and since there were families with younglings on board, he decided to stick to his cabin. Much safer for everyone that way.

The press of a button opened the rather large viewport on the bulkhead, and offered an excellent view of the ship's port side. Obi-Wan watched with some excitement as the shimmering blue and green planet crept into view. He'd never been sent there on any missions, so this was a first for him. In fact, this whole trip was turning out to be a collection of firsts, and he knew more was to come. As the ship settled into orbit, Obi-Wan was able to get a better view of the planet. What wasn't varying shades of blue was varying shades of green. There didn't appear to be any mountains, no arctic areas, no heavy urban centers. What he knew of Chandrila was that they loved peace, nature, and the democratic process. Just the kind of people he knew he could get along with, and it was too bad there weren't more like them in the Galaxy.

He made his way to the landing bay and boarded a shuttle. The descent planet side was uneventful, thanks to the skill of the pilots and well-maintained gravity compensators. Obi-Wan had packed up his case, fastened it to his belt, and waited rather restlessly for the shuttle to dock. He felt a nervous energy building up in his chest and spreading to his limbs.

Get a hold of yourself, Obi-Wan. You're a Jedi Knight, not an unschooled Padawan. Now calm down.

Finally the shuttle pilot opened the doors and bid his passengers farewell. Obi-Wan stood and walked down the ramp. The sun greeted him on the way down, and he savored the warmth that washed over him. Fresh, crisp air, free from pollutants and exhaust, filled his lungs. If he remembered correctly, Chandrila was in its late-spring season. Various scents wafted through the air, some fruity, some flowery, none unpleasant.

Outside the shuttle port citizens had planted a large terraced garden which was now full of blooming flowers, all arranged together according to colour. Obi-Wan recognized some of them from the Corellian Horticultural Digest, and others he remembered seeing in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Still others he'd never seen before. A long set of steps took him down from the landing pad through the terraced garden to a walkway which led to an area filled with landspeeders, airspeeders, and taxis, all either waiting for arrivals or dropping off departures.

"Master Kenobi?" a voice asked. Obi-Wan turned around and was greeted by a slight man with sharp features, wearing a chauffeur's uniform. "Master Kenobi?" he asked again.

"Yes, that's right."

"Master Kenobi, if you'll please follow me, I'll take you to…um, well…Mister Kenobi." Obi-Wan followed the man to a speeder and climbed in. "Do you have any luggage, sir?"

"Just a small travel pack. I can carry it." The driver took his place and the speeder pulled away. They hadn't gotten far when Pol, as he introduced himself, started making small talk.

"So where were you before this? I bet it was somewhere exciting."

Obi-Wan chuckled. Everyone assumed that a Jedi was always in the midst of a battle, and most would be shocked to discover that a vast majority of a Jedi's time was spent training, traveling, or mediating disputes. "I was on Alderaan making a delivery. Quite mundane," he said. Then he remembered the trouble with the pirates. "That is, until we were attacked by Merson pirates." He suppressed a grin as Pol yipped with excitement.

"What?! Pirates? What happened?" Obi-Wan gave a recounting of the events, and his story was often punctuated with outbursts from Pol, like "And what'd you do then?" and "Oh, man, that must have been crazy!" He found that he quite enjoyed being able to tell a story purely for the enjoyment of another, without every action and reaction being questioned by one of his masters. Pol was just beginning to ask him about his lightsaber when a *ping* rang from the dashboard of the speeder.

"We're coming up on the Kenobi house, Master Jedi." The house might have looked small and flat from the street, but from the air one could see that it was also wide and deep. It was the perfect house for a family who wanted a large home without disrupting their neighbours' views of the rolling hills and forests off in the distance. As they landed in front of the house, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of a magnificent backyard.

Pol was first to exit the speeder, and led Obi-Wan to the door. Before they could reach the first of a dozen steps leading up to it, the door swung open. Out stepped a man of about sixty-five, average height, with white hair carefully parted and combed back. Obi-Wan instantly recognized him from the hologram, and began up the stairs.

The older man spoke first. "I hope Pol didn't talk your ear off on the way over here." Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder to see the chauffer grinning sheepishly. "He's been asking about you ever since we told him he was going to pick you up at the spaceport."

Obi-Wan grinned. "He's fine company. It was refreshing to answer questions from someone so enthusiastic and without ulterior motive." He reached the front porch, and now he and Rhys stood face to face for the first time in three decades. As he looked into this man's clear blue eyes, he felt as if he were looking at an older version of himself. Is this man really my father? he wondered. He briefly wondered if perhaps this was some elaborate setup, but he could sense no deception in Rhys or anyone else in the house. They just stood there for a moment, each man trying to sort out thirty years worth of questions, feelings, and memories.

Rhys finally broke the silence. "Well, come on inside. Your mother is preparing a meal. Have you eaten yet?"

Come to think of it, he hadn't. Food just hadn't appealed to him on the voyage over from Alderaan. "I'm actually quite hungry."

"Oh, good," said Rhys with a laugh. "Lynelle will be thrilled. Now that Owen doesn't come over as often-"

"Owen?" interrupted Obi-Wan. "Did you say 'Owen'?" They stopped walking.

"Yes. Owen is your brother. He lives over in Nayli, not far from here. You sound like you know him."

"Well, it's just that I sometimes have dreams." Obi-Wan immediately felt silly talking about it. "And in these dreams is someone named Owen, but I can never see him. We're always sitting in this field, but everything else is very vague."

Rhys thought for a moment. "You boys used to play in a field near the Silver Sea. Lynelle would sometimes take you out there for picnic lunches if it was a nice enough day. Owen is very excited to meet you. You know, he's really looked up to you. We all have, I guess. And we're glad you're here."

He resumed the journey towards the kitchen, and Obi-Wan fell in step with him. As they walked through the house, Obi-Wan noticed the openness of the design, and the many windows which let in so much natural light. Little bubbling pools here and there not only provided a very soothing sound, but also, when properly illuminated, greatly increased the ambience of the house. The hallway they were passing through looked down below into a large great room, in which sat very comfortable-looking furniture, various pieces of art on the walls, and small trees growing out of the floor.

Rhys noticed the young man admiring the house as they passed through it. "Though you probably don't remember, you lived in this house. Down there is where we entertain guests. Lynelle sometimes plays the touchboard, if enough people start begging her to." They stopped and looked over the railing. "Those plants grow right out of the ground. We managed to build the foundation leaving certain parts of the soil exposed, and built the floor around them. So it's like we have built-in planters in our entertainment room."

"It's ingenious," remarked Obi-Wan. "It's a refreshing change from a place like Coruscant."

"Never trust a planet where you can't put your feet on its soil," said Rhys, shaking his head. "It's a shame to populate a planet so heavily that it becomes one big city." His head suddenly cocked to one side, and Obi-Wan caught a faint whiff of something delicious. "We'd better get to the kitchen before Lynelle closes it on us," Rhys said with a wink.

Meeting his mother was decidedly less awkward for Obi-Wan than meeting Rhys had been. The diminutive woman with greying hair trotted over and hugged him as if he was their son home from a long trip, instead of their son home for the first time in thirty years.

"Now, let me look at you," she said, standing back and looking him from head to toe. She beamed as she searched his face, his eyes. She touched his cheek and wiggled his chin. "Such a handsome boy." For a moment Obi-Wan indeed felt like a boy, as if it was his first day of school. He smiled. It felt easy, natural, to respond to their affection with warmth, and the ease with which he felt those emotions took him slightly off-guard. Something in his conscious told him that what he was doing, what he was feeling, was a violation of the Jedi Code, but Obi-Wan couldn't find anything inherently wrong with the situation. It's been thirty years, he remembered. This is a family you've never really known. Don't force emotion.

"I'm so sorry, Lyn-Mother. This is all still a bit…"

"Weird?" suggested Rhys

"Well…yes. Just a little."

"Don't worry, darling," replied his mother. "We understand. It's weird for us too, but it's a different kind of weird. You've been our son for thirty five years, but we've been your family, as far as you know, for five years that you barely remember. It's perfectly natural, and it just takes time."

Relief flooded Obi-Wan, and he smiled. "Thank you for understanding."

"That's what families do." She motioned to the food-laden table. "Now, let's sit down and start in on lunch. Owen called and said he'll be a few minutes late. He had to pick something up on his way over."

**I'm trying to get my dad to finish the story, but he's a bit occupied by his job, which he just quit. Don't worry, he already has a job in Uptown. Anyway, that was A Sort Of Homecoming! Will Owen accept Obi-Wan as his brother? Will Obi-Wan get over his awkwardness? And what of the war that is going on right now? It's a mystery to everyone, even me, so wait for A Sort Of Homecoming Part 2!**


End file.
